


why i feel so the opposite?

by secretly_a_savior



Series: the b sides of broken records [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Teachers, BSBRverse, Dialogue Heavy, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Past Abuse, Recovery, Sleepy Cuddles, Vague language, abuse is old relationship not hamwash, please read the notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 15:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6759373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretly_a_savior/pseuds/secretly_a_savior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex tells George about a past relationship, and it clicks why he hasn't gotten an <i>I love you too</i>.</p><p>--</p>
            </blockquote>





	why i feel so the opposite?

**Author's Note:**

> A.K.A AP Euro?? what's that? should i be STUDYING? lol ok
> 
> this will all make sense i promise. all you gotta know is that George is a divorced vet who used his GI bill to become a teacher and Alex is his Teacher's Aide (so he's still in college but not technically one of George's students.) I really wanted to work a bit on their dynamic- I've been working on some ficlets in this verse (titled "the b sides of broken records") and this was the first one I was able to carry out. The main fic will come ONE DAY. 
> 
> As always, kendall is my INSPIRATION- my MUSE if you will   
> even when we're drunk at i-hop she pushes me to BE THE BEST I CAN BE and continue catering my hamfics to her. (so i will continue to do that.)
> 
> Author + Exile stuff is coming soon!! so is absolute TRASH from the crackiest ship of all time. unfortunately "get up" has been placed in indefinite fanfiction hell.
> 
> FAIR WARNING there's vague language surrounding sexual assault and a past abusive relationship so!! steer clear if that makes you uncomfortable!!

                Tired eyelids parted to a sight that was way too familiar for George- it shook him to his core. He let himself come to his senses for a moment, he flicked on the lamp and felt his eyes adjusting to the low light before he decided what to actually _do_ about it. Alexander Hamilton was tossing and turning in his bed, shivering and whispering _something_ to himself. It wasn’t the first night he’d slept fitfully when George was around, not by a long-shot, but this wasn’t _tired college student_ fitful sleeping, this was a _panic attack-_ or something along those lines. George was no psychologist. (Although he liked to think he’d seen enough shrinks to know what he was doing.)

                He lay a hand on the other’s shoulder to try to calm him, and it was quickly and sharply slapped off with an unintelligible cry and he cringed. Alex was having night terror of sorts, George assumed. He wondered what about- usually when he was going through this he _needed_ touch- it grounded him. Clearly, though, Alex wasn’t having it. He bit his lip and considered his options. It hurt him to see Alex like this, but in a weird, fucked up kind of way it made him feel a bit better. He wasn’t the one being comforted or protected- it was somehow validating seeing Alex vulnerable. He tucked that thought away, internally chastising himself for thinking that way _at all._

                “Alex, Its George. You’re okay.” He said, lying his hands on his lap nervously- obviously touching the other wasn’t going to help. He tried not to be _hurt_ by the aggressive counter to his touch, it was involuntary, after all, but regardless his heart fell in his chest a little bit. He scooted the tiniest bit closer and spoke up again, trying to speak clearly over the quiet _‘no’s_ and _‘please’s_ and _‘stop’_ s that made his stomach churn. 

                “Alexander, please wake up. No one’s gonna hurt you.” He said, and to his surprise, Alexander shot up, breathing heavy. The sheen of sweat on his face glimmered in the faint light of the room and he continued thrashing for a moment, gaining his bearings. He saw it was George and immediately shook his head, holding in tears.

                “You probably have four thousand questions, and I’ll answer them, I promise but I have a really important question to ask you.”

                George just nodded, signifying that he’d answer. Alexander was speaking at a million miles per minute- like he did when he was nervous- but through the sleep he was still trying to shake off he understood what he was saying by some miracle of god.

                “Don’t laugh, but are you wearing Burberry?”

                “Yeah- it’s uh- it’s new.” The teacher replied, confused by the question. The other was still breathing heavily and there were tears spilling from his eyes and he asked about George’s new _scent?_ “Why?”

                “Please don’t ever fucking wear it again. Ever. If possible get out of it now- I can’t- I can’t- I-“

                The older man’s brows pulled together and he stood from the bed. He usually would’ve chastised the other for the language, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care at the moment. He had other things on his mind. How could he _get rid_ of the scent of the body wash he **just used?** Was it in the sheets? Without even knowing his lovers’ reasoning he immediately became concerned. He became vaguely aware that Alex had stopped rapidly stuttering, and was trying actively to control his breathing. As he observed, he pulled himself out of the boxers and tank he was wearing and threw on his running sweats, and liberally applied his usual cologne.

                After a moment’s hesitation he returned to the bed. He felt like shit- of course he’d upset the one good thing in his life with something as menial as a new shower gel. (He’d bought the after-shave and the cologne too, which he’d throw out in the morning, seeing as he’d thrown out the receipt.) He wanted the other to **notice** the change but not in a fashion even _similar_ to this. (No one ever _planned_ fo something like this, to be fair.) Alex tossed himself at George, letting sobs rack through him, and George’s chest felt hollow. He moved to run a hand down the other’s back but when his hand made contact he felt Alex tense underneath him and he moved his hand quickly, laying it on the bed beside him in neutral space.

                “I’m sorry- this is stupid- I-“

                “No, what’s wrong?” asked George, cutting Alex off.

                “I- My-“ Alex took a deep breath, trying to keep tears away, clearly. “My ex wore that, too much of it, all the time and- it reminded me, I guess.  Bad memories. They say the olfactory nerves are closely connected to memories- it was bugging me earlier but I couldn’t place it. Guess my memory jogged in my sleep.“ His sentences came out rapid and _almost_ accented, as if he had to think hard to place the words in English- a struggle he often had with English as his second language out of three (and a half.)

                “Your ex?” George felt bad for pressing for more information, but he couldn’t help or be supportive if he didn’t know what was _wrong_ or **why.** He felt himself tensing briefly. Someone had _hurt_ Alex- probably before he even knew him- and yet he still felt like it was his own fault.  

                “You were asleep, I woke you up, and this is stupid. Sorry. We both need to be up in the morning- I-“

                “I’ll buy coffee on the way to work, there’s no use going to bed now. You have class today anyway.” He cut the other off _once again-_ he knew if he didn’t Alex would make excuses for the next twenty minutes, rambling without taking a breath.

                “I don’t want to bother you, really. It’s kind of a long story.”

                “We’ve got time.”

                Alex sighed and straightened up for a second before turning around and curling against his companion, pulling his knees close to him and shifting himself under one of the rather bewildered man’s arms, as if he were a cat in dire need of attention. George got the memo and accommodated, wrapping himself around the other and pulling a blanket over them. Alex started to speak as he calmly ran his fingers through his hair.

                “My ex, Aaron, wore that stuff _in excess_ all the time. We were together from, like-“ he paused, as if searching his head for dates and times. “- the end of high school to last year in August- right before I landed the aide job. I loved him, a lot-“ he paused again, steeling himself. “-and he was the only real relationship I had ever been in, I mean aside from Eliza but that was different- so I thought… **_I_** thought he was treating me okay.”

                George got the picture- he swallowed thickly.

                “Alex, you don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.” He said, his words clear and comforting, he was hoping to cut the tension in the room, and he could hardly bare it to see someone who was usually so strong so vulnerable- the incredibly articulate man reduced to a stuttering mess. He was honored that he was trusted with that vulnerability yet- and it was beginning to make sense to him why he hadn’t seen any of it before.

                “No- I- I want to. I’ve never really talked about it to many people. Anyone, actually. Except a campus counselor once- but…” Another tense pause. “He was aggressive. Really great occasionally but he- he kind of thought I should be _seen,_ and not _heard,_ which is a problem because I talk a lot.” He chuckled a bit under his breath before continuing, even through crushing anxiety he found time for self-deprecation. “He would always tell me to ‘ _talk less’_ and to _‘smile more’_ and it was kind of suffocating but I dealt with it because I kind of felt like he was the only person who saw value in me. Things got really bad. He didn’t really take _no_ for an answer a lot, and I never wanted to disappoint him so ‘ _no’_ really never got too far. I never thought too much of that- and neither did anybody else- because we’d been together so long, y’know? I was committed to him so I had to give him what he wanted or I was a bad person. I don’t know, it’s stupid. Thinking about it makes me sick, and-“ Alex’s voice trailed off and he stared off blankly for a moment, losing his train of thought in a sea of _nausea_ and _regret._

                George let out a shaky breath. He was _angry._ At whoever this guy was, at Alex for letting himself be **abused-** at himself for not being more careful with the younger man.

                “It’s not stupid.” He said, his brows pulling together as he pressed a kiss to the top of Alex’s head.

                “He left me, _thank god_. I talked to someone and he said he was sick of my _slander_ and ungratefulness. I think he expects me to like- crawl back. He still texts me, and I- please promise you won’t be mad. Please.”

                “I won’t be mad.” George replied tentatively.

                “Up until like, last month I guess I was texting him back. I don’t know- he always **changes.** Like a snake in a wolf in sheep’s clothing’s clothing. We still go to school together so he’s sort of hard to avoid- he’s going to school for law though so I walk _around_ the building instead of _through_ it and steer pretty clear. I-” He paused, looking up to George to make sure he wasn’t getting a negative response. “I’ve got _you_ now though. I feel like a _person_ when I’m with you.”

                George sighed. Alex had been texting an ex-flame even after George had clarified their exclusivity. **_Nice._** He didn’t know how to process anything or what to process or what order to process it in. It was a loaded conversation- one he didn’t think he’d have with Alex. It occurred to him then that their age difference affected how he saw Alex. He was so _young-_ how could he go through something that could break him? He hadn’t taken into account that something like this could’ve happened- it was hard to take _any_ social experiences into account after two wars and a divorce.

                “I’m not mad. Delete his number though. Block him. Don’t let him stay in your life after… all of that.”

                Alex scoffed.

                “You can say it- you don’t need to treat me with kid gloves. What’s happened happened.” He already sounded like himself again- he’d obviously talked himself back up to his usual, constant façade of confidence. Despite their closeness and the blanket though, Alex was still shivering- still running through residual panic. George shook his head.

                “You haven’t even said it, so I’m not going to.” George started, eliciting a bit of a glare from the teacher’s aide that lay curled into him. “Thank you for telling me- I- We can talk about this more when we’ve both had some sleep- if you want to.” He said. He wasn’t sure if he meant that- he wasn’t sure he was coherent enough to understand the levity of what Alex had conveyed to him. Mostly, he wanted to find this _Aaron_ guy and **snap his neck,** and he wanted to hold Alex forever and he wanted to skip work and ponder this and he wanted a _drink_ because what are you even supposed to say to this?

He knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to once again convey his absolute adoration for Alexander. In all of the movies and books it was the younger, inexperienced one that was supposed to come out and say it. ‘ _I love you’._ The younger one was supposed to be infatuated- but it was, unfortunately, the other way around. He found happiness in the other, despite ethical discrepancies. He’d  found a reason to get up in the morning and deal with ungrateful performance arts students all day at that god-forsaken school. He _loved_ him, and he’d said it many times over but never gotten it returned, got excuses and exits instead. Now he understood though. Alex was afraid to give his heart away again- and with good reason.

It struck him that he wasn’t _not_ loved back- he was making the other **uncomfortable** by saying it. Whatever this was had the potential to not matter- Alex has agency when things are unofficial- the ball’s in his field. As soon as he **_loves_** again- as soon as he says it back- that’s gone. Things become equal- and balanced things can very quickly and easily tip to the wrong side and **break.** Alexander was used to imbalances of power.

George sighed, and reached over and flipped a switch, killing the light he’d turned on. His legs were asleep, but he was otherwise comfortable, so he just settled slightly, letting his heavy lids curl down slightly. He felt Alexander become still and heavier as he got close to sleep too.

“Alex?” George asked, deciding against _I love you,_ tired voice slurring just the slightest bit.

“Yes?”

“You don’t have to be afraid.” He said, whispering out of tiredness and sincerity.  Alex just stirred slightly with a content hum in response, letting sleep take him before he had to reply. George huffed quietly and let his eyes close.


End file.
